The first time I tried mountain biking, with the twisted confidence of youth, I chose Gooseberry Mesa for my inaugural mission—Gooseberry, known for its technical Greater Zion slickrock, death-drop vistas and painted white dots that guide expert riders through bristly manzanita. I pedaled for less than a minute before hitting a nub of sandstone and wrecking hard enough to crack my rental helmet and shred my right elbow.

In my shame and pissiness, I didn’t ride a mountain bike again for 10 years. Then selective amnesia set in. I decided to join a multiday, all-women’s downhill MTB clinic led by endurance beast Rebecca Rusch. My glorious comeback was slated to culminate with a descent of Oregon’s Mount Ashland Super D, a course that drops 5,400 feet over 14 miles, known for its steep straightlines, berms and rock gardens.